A Path Not Taken
by Penn O'Hara
Summary: Ever wondered what event/s helped evolve Liz Olivet and Mike Logan from doctor/patient in Season 2 to the relationship where Logan was obviously torn up by Liz’ rape in Season 3 and then his comfort in going to Liz after the cop-shooting in Season 5?
1. Chapter 1

**"A Path Not Taken"**

_**Copyright 2009 Penn O'Hara**_

_**T **___

_**Usual disclaimers apply.**_

_**LandOrder Timeline: During Season Two, post "Confession".**_

**oOo**

_**Ever wondered what event/s could have helped evolve Liz Olivet and Mike Logan from doctor/patient in Season Two to the relationship where Logan was so obviously torn up by Liz' rape in Season Three and then his comfort in going to Liz after the cop-shooting in Season Five?**_

_**Here's one take on the events…**_

_**1991**_

**Chapter One**

**Days off that coincided with Sunday afternoons were few and far between, so Mike Logan was going to make the best of this one by indulging himself and doing nothing but reading the sports section of the paper and drinking a beer…or two. The blonde he'd seen off his doorstep around noon had left him with a satisfied buzz that he wanted to hang onto for as long as possible.**

**Even the knock at the door didn't put him on the alert. If it was a new case, or even an urgent lead on their current ones, Phil Cerreta would have called him first. He pushed himself off the sofa and went to the door, mildly interested in who his visitor would be, but hoping it was someone with whom he could gripe about how the Yankees weren't getting their act together this season.**

**When he opened the door, his caller was the last person in the world he expected.**

"**Liz!...er, Doctor…Olivet…I wasn't—" He hung onto the door, unconsciously barring her entry. **

**Logan was as guilty as the next person in compartmentalizing people in his life. Phil Cerreta was a good partner, but he was 'the job', and they rarely socialized together, the differences between unattached bachelor and established family man too great to meet on common ground.**

**Liz Olivet was, he had to admit, a necessary evil for him. Since Max' death, he'd been ordered by the Department to have regular sessions with her to come to terms with his guilt for not being there for his ex-partner — not being there when Max was shot, nor protecting him from the corruption they had been trying to scourge from the city.**

**And in his compartmentalized world, Logan went to the shrink, not the other way around. He went to her pristine, impersonal office, because he had to. She didn't belong in his crash pad, his haven from his work.**

**She hovered on his doorstep, her usual assurance replaced by an unsure bottom lip, raised questing brows and apologetic eyes. **

**He wasn't helping by not inviting her in.**

"**Liz'll do fine," she finally said. "May I come in?"**

"**Yeah…sure," he said, stepping back, quickly checking his apartment. It was far from tidy, littered with sections of the Sunday paper and unfolded but, at least, clean laundry. "Sorry 'bout the mess—"**

**She stepped past him, her steps skittish. "Don't worry. I have brothers. With their own apartments. They never clean up for me."**

**Logan shoved a newspaper off the sofa, scattering the pages to the floor. He eyed her razor-edge pleated trousers and cashmere roll-neck sweater. Though out of her professional clothes, she still looked polished and somehow at odds with his apartment.**

"**I'm not sure—" He swept away possible food crumbs from the cushions, thinking furiously for reasons why she needed to be here.**

"**I'm sorry, Detective...I'm imposing—" she said as she gracefully lowered herself to the sofa. **

"**Hey! No problem, an' call me, Mike." He swept out a hand. "After all, you know more about me than I know myself, right?" Logan didn't bother to disguise the bitterness that came with the admission. After lawyers, psychiatrists were the next professionals around whom he was wary.**

**Liz looked up at him in surprise. "Not really. Our sessions together…are more about **_**you**_** discovering things about yourself, Mike."**

"**Whatever…" Unsure of why she was here, he had no idea what to do next. He wasn't about to sit down opposite her, mirroring their positions as if he was in session with her. He angled away toward his kitchen. "Can I get you anything?"**

"**Actually…Mike…I'm hoping I can persuade you to come out…for a drink, or a coffee, whatever. I have…a favor I'd like to ask of you."**

**A favor? So this wasn't about him and his hang-ups. Relaxing a little, he pointed to his T-shirt and sweats. "Sure, but I'm gonna have to change."**

"**I can wait."**

**Casting a puzzled look at her, Logan headed for his bedroom.**

**As he searched for his jeans, he tried to guess why Liz would want a favor from him. If it was police-business, she probably had any number of contacts higher in the Force then he. He knew of nothing he could offer her. Replacing his sweats with jeans he hadn't managed to rumple yet, he peeled his T-shirt over his head and reached for a shirt.**

"**Detective…ah, Mike…I've changed my mind—"**

**Logan swung around and Liz was standing at his bedroom doorway, lips parted, her eyes hovering between his chest and waist.**

**He paused in buttoning his shirt, surprised by her hesitancy. She seemed to freeze in the doorway. Abandoning his shirt, he walked slowly toward her. "I don't get it—"**

**Her eyes unlocked from his body and skittered away, but not before he saw the anguish in them. "I made a mistake. I have to leave."**

**She still hadn't moved.**

"**I…" He put out a tentative hand to touch her arm. "I don't know what you want. If you don't tell me—"**

"**What I want?!" She looked wildly at him. "I want…to get you **_**out of my system!**_**" She gritted the words out, her face blazing with self-loathing and hapless hunger. Logan recognized the look even while he didn't trust it coming from someone like Elizabeth Olivet.**

**She spun from the door and bolted across his living room, wrenching the front door open before he managed to move. As the door slammed, Logan finally found his mobility, walking slowly toward its still quivering surface.**

"_**Shit!"**_

**oOo**

_**to be continued…**_

_**I'm exploring this relationship as it correlates with my current and present-day story, Resistance, which is about to get a shot in the arm, I hope.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**"A Path Not Taken"**

**_Copyright 2009__ Penn O'Hara_**

_**T**_

_**Usual disclaimers apply.**_

**_LandOrder__ Timeline: During Season Two, post "Confession"._**

**oOo**

**Chapter Two**

**He finally moved.**

**In three strides Logan covered the rest of his living room and was out the door, sprinting down the corridor and hitting the stairs. He hoped they would get him to ground floor before the elevator, which had already departed. He had a good chance. The elevator was old and painstakingly slow, and residents often took the stairs because they were quicker.**

**He had no idea what just happened, nor what he would say when he managed to head off Liz, but he'd be damned if he left things hanging like that. He wasn't a man who let simmering volcanoes cool.**

**And he instinctively knew he had a potentially eruptive volcano on his hands.**

**Swinging around the banister at the foot of the stairs, Logan met the elevator as the doors pinged open. Feet planted apart, he prepared for battle. What form the battle would take, he had no idea, but Mike Logan never walked away from a fight.**

**Liz took one step forward to leave the car then froze.**

**Logan stepped in and punched the doors shut.**

**"What the hell was that all about?" he demanded, noting her startled eyes but not prepared to pull back.**

**"You're out of line, Detective," Liz said firmly, quickly recovering. "Step aside."**

**"Maybe I'm outta line, if I knew what was goin' on. But right now, I'm clueless an' I deserve an explanation. What are you doin' here? And why run out?"**

**Logan had never seen his shrink so out of her depth. Her mouth was vulnerably parted, her eyes clouded and wary, refusing to meet his. "I told you," she said softly, her defiance deflated. "It was a mistake."**

**Unsure of what 'it' was, Logan spread his hands, his own stance losing some of its confrontation. "_What_ was a mistake? Nothing happened!"**

**"Coming here," she sighed. "Look, Mike. I have to go. I'll see you at our next session. Next week, as arranged. Okay?"**

**She made to push past him, but he thrust out an arm and barred her escape.**

**"Not okay," he insisted. "You said, you wanted…to get me…out of your system. What the hell does that mean? You wanna stop our sessions? You only have to tell me. I'm not going to a shrink because it's a fun way to pass the day, ya know."**

**Liz passed an unsteady hand over her eyes, then straightened her spine with an explosive sigh, regaining a little of her authority. At first that superiority had niggled him, then it had challenged, now it was merely a part of the package that was Liz Olivet. "You're not that obtuse, Detective. Don't play dumb with me."**

**Logan felt his jaw lock and teeth grind. That's what it always came back to. Whenever she wanted to punch through his defences, she brought out the 'dumb dick' line. "Ya think?!" he demanded, moving a pace toward her and she instinctively backed into the corner.**

**"Well, tell me, doc, which do _you_ think is easier for me to believe? That you're regrettin' takin' on a self-destructive basket case like me an' you want out before failure blackens your record, or you're harborin' some burnin' desire for a street-wise detective, a gaping canyon between our backgrounds and opportunities and with enough issues to send any self-respecting woman runnin' screaming?"**

**Logan was seeing red, but he didn't miss the tremble on her mouth, nor the tears that misted her eyes.**

**"Oh, Mike," she whispered, shaking her head. "Is that what you think?"**

**"What else am I supposed to think?"**

**"That's our problem. You're thinking. I'm not." She stepped up to him and put her hand on his arm, exerting pressure to convince him to move it and let her pass.**

**Instead, he merely looked at her hand and then into her eyes, tilting his head in question, or maybe, challenge. Her hand slid slowly down to his wrist, an experimental caress.**

**Suddenly, there were perfumed arms wrapping themselves around his neck, soft lips clinging to his mouth, and despite what he said about their differences, this felt somehow right. And if felt better than good.**

**A slide of his leg between hers coaxed her back against the wall of the elevator car, and his body pressed into her curves, shaping her against him, absorbing her warmth. Working on automatic, a straying hand pushed under her cashmere sweater and found something softer, more exciting and heated than the expensive wool that covered it.**

**"Shit, Liz," he groaned. "Whatever sent you to me…I gotta say…"**

**"Don't talk," she silenced him with another kiss, straining harder against him, and, caught up in the feel and scent of her, he took what was offered.**

**"You wanna come up?" he growled, his voice betraying, along with his body, what she was doing to him.**

**"No!" she gasped, pushing him away.**

**"No?" Logan went cold, his arms dropping to his sides in shock.**

**"Michael…are you coming out?!"**

**Mrs Schwarz, a neighbor from the other end of his corridor, was frowning at him, waiting. In her sixties, her tall thin body rigid with censure, she wasn't too old to forget times spent necking in elevators, but she wasn't young enough to now approve. Her husband was standing with her, slightly shorter and rounder, a knowing grin on his face.**

**"Not your usual, Michael—" Mrs Schwarz said, her mouth puckering.**

**"Letitia!" Mr Schwarz snapped, his grin disappearing. "Mind your manners." He turned to Liz. "I apologize for my wife, Miss. She thinks speaking her mind is her God-given right."**

**Logan glanced down at Liz and saw that her face was red and heated.**

**"I…I better go," Liz mumbled. "I was leaving anyway…" She slipped out of the car before Logan could stop her.**

**"Liz! _Shit!" _Logan said, finding his way barred by Mrs Schwarz' disapproval. He watched Liz go, confusion and disappointment warring a dawning deeper emotion he yet had to accept.**

**oOo**

_**to be continued…**_


	3. Chapter 3

**"A Path Not Taken"**

**_Copyright 2009__ Penn O'Hara_**

_**T**_

_**Usual disclaimers apply.**_

**_L__aw and Order Timeline: During Season Two, post "Confession"._**

**oOo**

**Chapter Three**

**"Mike, you either tell me about it, or snap out of it."**

**Logan tore his eyes away from the phone on his desk, startled, to meet Phil Cerreta's amused ones.**

**"I know the signs," Phil said, his face a mixture of understanding and humor. "You gave some doll your phone number and now you're playing the waiting game. She's not going to call. Not while you're watching it."**

**"She's not—" Damn, he slipped. Logan often talked about his women to Phil. The seasoned detective and family man was indulgent of his exploits, and often had a word of advice, but Logan wasn't getting into this one with his partner. Liz wasn't one of his women, she was his shrink, but the other night had confused him, and he wasn't getting his phone calls returned.**

**"It's a… business call. I left a message—" He shut up. He was only going to dig himself deeper if he kept going.**

**"No business call has you that riveted, unless you're thinking of changing careers?" Phil's eyes widened and he straightened in his chair, causing it to creak in protest. "You changing careers, Mike?"**

**"No!" Logan shuffled the papers on his desk, making a show of concentrating on the file in front of him.**

**"Well then?" Phil prompted.**

**"None of your fuckin' business, Cerreta," Logan snapped, hoping to put an end to it, but he got it wrong again. Hostility only piqued his partner more.**

**Phil's chair creaked again as he bounced forward to lean across his desk and tap Logan's papers with an adamant finger. "Who is she?"**

**Logan stared hard at the other detective, considering how far evasion would get him. Say the wrong thing, and he was going to be in deeper shit.**

**The truth was, he needed to talk to someone about Liz and that night, four days ago, and how her receptionist wouldn't put his subsequent calls through to her and how she was ignoring his messages. He needed someone else's perspective on why his shrink would visit him late at night, run out of his apartment and then kiss him — hell, it was more than a kiss — in the elevator, then run out on him again. He needed someone else's take on it before he made an ass of himself over a woman with the obvious class of Liz Olivet.**

**Logan only had one choice.**

**Lie. And lie well.**

**There was no way he was going to set himself up for ridicule when he had no idea where Liz was heading with this. He'd just have to wait until their session tomorrow, tackle her with it and take it from there.**

**"Okay," he bluffed. "You got me. I gave my card to this gorgeous blonde who's never gonna call me in a million years, but…hey!" He spread his hands out and grinned. "I gave it my best shot."**

**Phil's eyes narrowed suspiciously, then he leaned back, folded his arms across his ample middle and grilled him with a stare. Logan held his position, evened his breathing and stared back.**

**Shrugging, Phil reached for the file he'd been working on, rearranged a few papers, then dropped his gaze to it.**

**"Better luck next time," he said.**

**_Yeah, _Logan thought. Next time he was going in person.**

**oOo**

**Liz' reception area was as utilitarian as her office.**

**The chairs were lightweight aluminum and vinyl, the magazine table, small and wooden and only lightly scattered with local papers and Readers Digests. The high counter behind which her secretary sat, hid the documents and files on which the latter was working from the public. From his chair near the door, Logan could only see the top of her head, currently bent in concentration, and he considered shaking her out of her professionalism by asking her why she never passed on his messages.**

**Shifting on the chair, he leaned forward, hands dangling between his knees. "I was wonder—"**

**The door to Liz' office opened and Logan half-rose from the chair, then froze. A man, well-dressed in tailored trousers and a fine white shirt set off by a tie with a silken sheen, walked out of Liz' office and held out his hand.**

**"I'm Martin Sanez. Come in, Mike."**

**Logan took the offered hand automatically, but stayed where he was. "I'm seeing Liz—"**

**"—who couldn't make it today. She asked me to stand in for her." Sanez let go of Logan's hand, and stepped back, a sweeping hand inviting him into Liz' office.**

**Logan had no intention of accepting. He smelled a rat. Liz wasn't returning his phone calls and was now palming him off to another shrink. He felt the familiar surge of anger that culminated in obstinacy.**

**"I'll come back another day," he said, dodging the other man and stepped up to the receptionist's counter. "You want me in for another appointment, _you_ call _me," _he told the woman behind it, then spun on his heel and walked out of the office, his steps angry and measured.**

**He'd been stood up before. Hell, women had done worst things to him than avoid him, but he sensed fear, not indifference, and he needed to know why Liz Olivet feared him. It would be short work for him to discover her home address.**

**He was all for mountains going to the Mohameds when the prophets weren't playing fair.**

**oOo**

**Her apartment building was in the upper east side and easily the type of place Logan imagined in which Liz would live. Elegant and well-kept, with a doorman guarding entry. Heavy-set, with the sense of importance often found in his profession, he was no match for a NYPD detective brandishing a gold shield. Logan didn't need the lettering on the polished brass letter boxes in the foyer to guide him to Liz' third floor apartment either. The doorman summoned the lift and hit the floor button for him.**

**When Liz opened her door, her surprise at an uninvited guest quickly gave way to compliance. She had to have known she wouldn't get away with keeping him at arms' length, but maybe she didn't realize how little time she had. Without a word, she stepped back to allow him entry.**

**Feeling as if he scored a point with her, Logan sauntered in, looking around at ease. Despite being on _her_ turf, he felt he had the advantage.**

**He wasn't expecting an over-abundance of hospitality from her, so he decided to make himself at home. Briefly noting an abundance of modern bookshelves lining the apartment's walls, and by-passing a cream dining suite with a flower-laden vase as its centrepiece, Logan headed for a claret-colored velvet sofa flanked by a large rug with a geometric motif.**

**Not his kind of décor, the apartment's pristine quality mocked Logan's crassness for coming here, uninvited and determined to grill its occupant.**

**Shrugging out of his coat, Logan tossed it onto a matching claret chair and settled onto the sofa. He tugged off his tie and released the top buttons of his shirt, before spreading his arms across the back of the furniture.**

**He eyed Liz still holding the door open. She was dressed in a softly flowing one-piece pant suit belted at the waist, and, bare of make-up and shoes, she looked vulnerable and resigned.**

**Her eyes darted to him and widened. Taking a deep breath, she turned abruptly to shut the door.**

**"You know how this is going to end, don't you?" she asked softly, her back still to him.**

**"Hell, Liz! I don't know anything!" he exploded. "That's why I'm here. To get answers."**

**She turned, one hand still gripping the door handle as if it were a lifeline. The vulnerability was still in her stance, but the resignation on her face had been replaced by something else — a yearning, a need to have a decision made.**

**Aware he was somehow affecting her, Logan felt an even greater sense of power.**

**She wanted him to make the first move.**

**oOo**

_**to be continued…**_


	4. Chapter 4

**"A Path Not Taken"**

**_Copyright 2009__ Penn O'Hara_**

_**T**_

_**Usual disclaimers apply.**_

**_L__aw and Order Timeline: During Season Two, post "Confession"._**

_**1991**_

_Previously on "A Path Not Taken"…_

_Logan had been stood up before. Hell, women had done worst things to him than avoid him, but he sensed fear, not indifference, and he needed to know why Liz Olivet feared him. It would be short work for him to discover her home address._

_He was all for mountains going to the Mohameds when the prophets weren't playing fair._

oOo

_From the plush softness of her sofa, Logan eyed Liz still holding her door open. She was dressed in a softly flowing one-piece pant suit belted at the waist, and, bare of make-up and shoes, she looked vulnerable and resigned._

_Her eyes darted to him and widened. Taking a deep breath, she turned abruptly to shut the door._

"_You know how this is going to end, don't you?" she asked softly, her back still to him._

"_Hell, Liz! I don't know anything!" he exploded. "That's why I'm here. To get answers."_

_She turned, one hand still gripping the door handle as if it were a lifeline. The vulnerability was still in her stance, but the resignation on her face had been replaced by something else — a yearning, a need to have a decision made._

_Aware he was somehow affecting her, Logan felt an even greater sense of power._

_She wanted him to make the first move._

oOo

**Chapter Four**

**As he sprawled on her sofa, Logan wondered at her hesitancy. When she was consulting on one of their cases in the two-seven, she was openly derogative of his non-cerebral responses to her theories. In their private sessions since Max died, she guided him implacably and sometimes, brutally, past his misconceptions to the truths he didn't want to face. But now, here in her apartment, where she was at her most vulnerable, she showed no resistance to his uninvited incursion, her shoulders rounded in disappointment.**

**It was almost as if _he_ had let her down somehow.**

**"Ah, shit." He finally realized what a son-of-a-bitch he was being and was thankful he understood before it was too late. Pushing himself from the sofa, he stuffed his hands in his pockets as he ambled toward her.**

**"I'm sorry, Liz. I shouldn't have come. I'll leave."**

**She moved then, placing the palm of her hand against his chest. Sliding up his shirt, she smoothed her fingers across his throat, then wrapped her hand around his neck. Exerting a little pressure, she drew his face down to hers. The touch of her lips against his was tentative, unlike that time in the elevator, but the fingers sliding up his back, the others through his hair, were firm and purposeful.**

**Caution kept his hands in his pockets. He didn't need them to enjoy her embrace and he didn't need to be later accused of taking advantage of her. But when she pressed her body against his and her mouth deepened the kiss, he felt a tremble start low and spread upward.**

**Liz broke the kiss first to lay her head against his shoulder. "You see our problem?" she asked breathlessly.**

**Logan didn't move, confused by her running hot and cold, but there was no way he was going to break this spell. "Lady, I don't have _any_ problem with this."**

**"But you did have a problem in my office earlier." She whispered the words against his neck, and his hands tremored to be released from his pockets. "Dr Sanez called me…_warned_ me…that there was a very displeased detective expelling himself from the building. He had no idea what you would do."**

**He smiled into her hair. "You didn't either. You were surprised to see me."**

**She shook her head. "I was surprised you didn't call first. But I knew you would come. Eventually."**

**Logan stiffened, dislodging her head from his shoulder so that she would have to look at him. "Not returning my phone calls? Using a ring-in at your office? These were all ploys to get me here?" He didn't like being manipulated. In fact, he had been broad-sided, and he should have seen it coming. Manipulation was practically a job requirement for her profession. "Shit, Liz! That's low. Even for a shrink." He pulled his hands from his pockets to push her away from him.**

**"No! Mike!" She grabbed his forearms, her fingers firm and insistent. "Not to get you here." She smiled with soft amusement. "I only had to ask…to get you here."**

**He bristled at her implication he couldn't keep it in his pants where women were concerned, even if it were true. But he had standards and they included not being maneuvered toward somewhere he didn't want to go.**

**"You got the wrong, guy, Liz. I'm outta here." He made it to the door, his hand on the lock.**

**"I wanted you to… _see…_ the problem."**

**Logan froze. She'd use those words earlier. He could keep going and be done with her manipulation or he could investigate what she meant. He spun around to face her. "Okay, Liz. Tell me the fuckin' problem." He was deliberately coarse, trying to rattle her. Shake her from her surety, her serenity, while he was a mass of conflict.**

**Lowering herself gracefully on the sofa, Liz folded her hands in her lap and waited.**

**"You pull my strings, woman!" He threw himself into the chair opposite her, unmindful that he sat on his coat, but realizing that he had been about to storm out of her apartment without it.**

**Still she said nothing, but merely gazed at him, watchful.**

**"Okay, I gotta fuckin' talk it out," he exploded. "Well, here it is. You asked for it." He see-sawed his hand in the air between them. "We got this _thing_ goin'. You seem to want me, an' I sure as hell want you. But it's physical. That's all it is." His eyes narrowed, gauging her reaction to the declaration, but she didn't react. _Damn her! _"So…what's with all the dancin' around?"**

**"I'm not the one dancing around it." She seemed to relax even more into the sofa, as if pleased with him or the way they were progressing. "I came to _your_ apartment. _I _kissed _you_ in the elevator. _I _stopped _you_ from leaving just then." Her hands lifted in a small 'now what?' gesture.**

**He eyed her suspiciously. "You sayin' the problem is with me?" He shifted on the chair, grinding his coat further into the cushion. "I'm all for takin' you to bed right now, but somehow, I don't think that's gonna happen. Not without a lot of jaw-ache beforehand."**

**Liz laughed, but quickly bit her lip. "Okay, Mike. I'll do the talking then." Her eyes were serious, looking directly into his. "I want you, yes. When I realized I wanted you, I knew I had committed the mortal sin of my profession. Once I'd finished flaying myself for it, I contemplated what I should do about it. The first thing I had to do, was break our doctor-patient relationship. Then, I had to give you all the choices."**

**Logan wasn't convinced. "Choices? You mean, without any help from you?"**

**A pink flush crept up her face. Averting her gaze, she studied her hands. "You've got me there, Detective." She quickly rallied, raising her eyes to smile at him. "There may be women in New York who can resist you, Mike, but I'm not one of them."**

**Logan let his head fall back onto the chair, suppressing a grin of his own. "Let me get this straight. If you've committed the 'mortal sin', shouldn't you breakin' _all_ ties with me?"**

**He heard her suck in a breath. He hit bulls-eye.**

**"Yes," she clipped. "You're absolutely right." She rose from the sofa, her body stiff with pride and moved toward the window, still open to the night air.**

**"Well?" he insisted.**

**Her chin jerked upward, her shoulders squaring. "I'm not prepared to give you up. And that's not to my credit." A nervous hand pushed its way through the length of her hair. "Satisfied?"**

**"I'll tell you later," he said, insinuating something else.**

**"I'll probably burn in hell, but—" She swung round to face him.**

**"—I'm worth it?" he grinned.**

**She let the joke pass. "Mike…I won't grovel, but I _do_ need you to make a choice."**

**He assumed what he hoped was a look of indecision, pretending he was unmoved by her admission. "I…don't…know…" he teased. Now was a good time to go to her, to signal his choice, but something else occurred to him. "I'm not changin' shrinks, Liz," he warned. "The department forced me to come to you. It's you or no one."**

**Another flush sped up her neck. "Um, well, about that…I…could have signed off on you…ah…weeks ago. I was…prolonging—"**

**Logan jerked to his feet. "You mean you were subjectin' me to these sessions just so you could _see_ me?"**

**He was unmoved by the uncertain tremble of her mouth as she bared the truth.**

**"Mike…I didn't know what…I wasn't sure…what I was doing. When I had worked it out, I came to you that night—"**

**Searching her face, he tried to gauge her honesty. Her eyes held his and they were clear and unflinching.**

**Breaking away from their unspoken plea, he paced the floor. "I gotta think about this."**

**Standing at the edge of the rug, he stared at the floor, thinking hard. Did he really want to get involved with someone who could get into his head and run rings around it? It wasn't that he was afraid of an intelligent woman with more smarts than him. It was a case of how could he be sure he wasn't being manipulated every step of the way? Did he need a relationship he had to work at, wonder about, be suspicious of? When he could he just continue meeting different women and enjoying them and what they had to offer, before moving on.**

**Logan turned to find her standing behind the sofa, her hands gripping its back, giving him space and time to make the decision.**

**"I have to sleep on this," he told her, surprising himself that he wasn't prepared to just take what was being handed to him.**

**She nodded, once and almost imperceptibly. He could detect no disappointment from her, no judgment and no attempt to influence him.**

**"But I don't have to leave, either," he added, letting her imagination fill in the blanks.**

**Liz came around the sofa and walked slowly toward him. "I understand. You're not willing to commit to anything. Not even sex."**

**Startled, he held back for a weighted moment. Is that what he meant? He would explore their relationship _before_going to bed with her? It wasn't his usual style.**

**But then, _she_ wasn't his usual style.**

**He pulled her into his arms.**

_**She did understand.**_

**oOo**

_**to be continued…**_


End file.
